


Thank you for sending me a copy of your book. I'll waste no time reading it.

by Pseudothyrum



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Gen, coping with grief by writing silly books, tell-all books
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-16
Updated: 2014-06-16
Packaged: 2018-02-04 07:09:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1770181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pseudothyrum/pseuds/Pseudothyrum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>People begin to write books about Hannibal, and he has precious little else to occupy his time in prison.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thank you for sending me a copy of your book. I'll waste no time reading it.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the kinkmeme prompt "Books are written about Hannibal. Depending on the author, Hannibal is either flattered by the attention or disgusted by the utter drivel written about him"

It’s only a few weeks after he is arrested that the first book comes out. Hannibal supposes he should have expected it, but he is fairly impressed by the turnaround time. He wonders, idly, if Freddie Lounds has written tell-all books about everybody she knows, just in case the need arises. 

“EAT YOUR HEART OUT” the cover screams at him, “A VICTIM OF HANNIBAL THE CANNIBAL SPEAKS.” He sneers slightly at that name. Apropos, perhaps, but vulgar nonetheless. A perfect summary of the entirety of Freddie Lounds’ career, he supposes. To call herself a victim was probably exaggeration, too. She never even got to sample one of his special meals, salad dressing notwithstanding (and he doubted she had even realised that). 

He sighs and turns to the first page. “From the moment I met Hannibal Lecter, I knew something was off about him...” The more he reads the more disgruntled he grows. Not only is her prose simply terrible, she is sensationalistic in the extreme. She writes frankly awful things about Will and the FBI, not to mention about him. It is rude, plain and simple, though he expected nothing less of her. He discards the book when he is through with it, it is below contempt. 

*** 

The second book takes him slightly more by surprise, though only slightly. Frederick has always been a shameless self-promoter, more in love with his own ego and image than with any sense of propriety. It took him almost half a year to have the thing published, which Hannibal would have considered to be a poor effort on his part, save that the release coincided entirely too perfectly with his sensational trial. 

The cover is pretentiously non-sensational, struggling desperately to pull the shroud of academia over its tawdry innards, tarted up to draw the most attention to Frederick’s pretensions of intellect. Even the title screams to be noticed, begs for praise. “Inside the Mind of the Ripper: How I Helped Catch Hannibal Lecter”. 

It is 300 pages of pure fantasy, describing in lavish detail how Frederick had been onto him from the start, never fooled for a moment, cruelly framed and then disbelieved by all those who should have been most willing to believe his Cassandra truths. Hannibal would laugh, if it weren’t so sad. He destroys this book, uses its pages for artwork, knowing that Frederick will know what has befallen his creation. 

***

He gets the third and fourth books bundled together. They are barely related to him at first glance, he thinks perhaps that they were sent to him as someone’s idea of a joke. The first is a crime novel, and the second is a cookbook. He almost tosses them away before reading the names on the covers-- the novel is credited to Brian Price, and the cookbook to Jimmy Zeller. He looks back at them with renewed interest.

The novel is called “Once Bitten”, and details the adventures of a woman named Beverly, who defeats a cannibalistic serial killer in an extremely improbable but doubtlessly highly cathartic way. The dedication in the front is for “our dearest Bev. And an anti-dedication to that cannibalistic piece of shit, Hannibal Lecter. We hate you.” The cookbook contains only vegetarian recipes. Hannibal smirks. It is, perhaps, fitting revenge for them. These books he keeps. 

***

Hannibal waits and waits for Will’s book to come out, to delve into Will’s mind and see himself reflected back through those perceptive eyes. He waits. It never comes.


End file.
